Meanwhile I sat at the now immaculate desk returning the last few emails in my inbox with semi-polite variations on “fuck off, it’s not my problem...anymore!” The phone rang. I rolled my eyes. I was going to be out the door for the last time in half an hour; what could anyone possibly want? “Mr Sanders, there’s a young lady in reception for you,” the receptionist said. I smiled. “Hmm, what’s she wearing?” I asked. “Excuse me?” “Oh, nothing, send her up.” I turned back to the screen, not really. I simply couldn't build any enthusiasm for their normally high brow selections. The third floor was staff only access and storage, as I've already said. The fourth floor was private and I've only been up there once, during my initial orientation.Though seldom used by anyone, it was the only floor with its own private cleaning crew and requiring a key for access. It contained only thirty or so volumes, really old and fragile things that took special storage and handling to preserve them. All. You place a blind fold on me and I can hear you walk away. I can hear you taking a shower and doing things here and there but I am unable to move or say anything. I don?t know how long I am left like this. It feels like hours but I am sure it wasn?t. You surprise me by pulling on the chain between my nipple clamps before taking the blindfold off of me. I see you have indeed showered and shaved and gotten dressed in casual clothes. You untie the crotch rope marvelling that I am still wet (so am. “Mother” she called. There was no response. “Mother, mother.” She shook her mother’s arm, and her face tilted to one side. She, too, wore a beautiful smile. A smile of contented peace. She was quite unmoving. Her heart seemed to contract. She ran to the door. “Sister. Sister. Please come. Come quickly.” She put her hands to her mouth, her eyes staring. There was a flurry of white and the Sister was there. “Please wait outside Mrs Chambers.” Sally stumbled from the room. Somewhere a bell was.